Lamb to the Slaughter
by xxamarkovxx
Summary: The moment Hans saw her, he knew he had to have her. The moment she saw him, she knew it too. In 1940's France, S.S. Colonel Hans Landa meets Annabel Vogel, a beautiful and seductive young woman in a Paris cafe. His white dove, a symbol of love. Their mutual attraction leads them into a passionate love affair that ends with an untimely death. After all, who can you really trust?
1. Spleen et Idéal

She was in white the first time he saw her.

She was sitting in a Paris cafe, immersed in the novel she was reading. She reached for the cup of coffee placed on her table and brought it to her lips, taking a careful sip of the steaming liquid. She wore a white dress, delicate and trimmed with lace around the neckline that fell off both her shoulders, exposing her flawless cream colored skin.

The White Dove. Die weiße taube.

Her chocolate colored hair was curled and she wore it down, the sides braided and pinned back to expose her beautifully proportioned cheekbones and oval face. What caught his attention though, were her eyes. They were a sort of turquoise green he had never seen in his lifetime, framed in long lashes. He had seen many attractive women and even bedded a few of them but never had he seen a woman as breathtaking as the woman who sat a mere 10 feet in front of him. He was not one to moon or swoon over a member of the female sex but the white dove he watched intensely was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He had begun to approach her table when he was stopped by a very familiar Gestapo Major.

"Ah, S.S. Oberst Landa! Es ist immer eine Freude, Sie zu sehen."

 _ **Ah, S.S. Colonel Landa! Always a pleasure to see you, Sir.**_

"Major Hellstrom, ebenso."

 _ **Major Hellstrom, likewise.**_

The two men shook hands, Landa's eyes still fixed on the white dove. The Major continued.

"Schön, dass Sie uns zum Mittagessen begleiten. Wir haben viel zu besprechen im Speisesaal, nachdem Sie-"

 _ **Glad to see you joining us for lunch. We have much to discuss in the dining room, after you-**_

"Ich werde gleich da sein, Major Deiter, danke." _**I will be along in a moment, Major Deiter, thank you.**_

Hans' voice was stern, sending Hellstrom a clear message. With an awkward nod of his head, Major Hellstrom withdrew the conversation and disappeared into the private dining area.

The white dove had lit a cigarette and was still reading her novel when Landa approached.

"Mademoiselle, Je vous présente mes plus sincères excuses pour avoir interrompu votre lecture. Je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher de remarquer que vous n'êtes pas accompagnée et il semble que ma curiosité a pris le dessus sur moi, car ici je me demande ce qu'une belle femme comme vous est assise ici seule?" _**Mademoiselle, I begin by expressing my sincerest apologies for interrupting your reading. I couldn't help but notice you are unaccompanied and it seems my curiosity got the best of me, as here I am wondering what a beautiful woman such as yourself is sitting here alone?**_

It was as if he hadn't spoken at all. She hadn't blinked an eye or even slightly acknowledged his presence. She lifted her cigarette to her pink lips and pulled before exhaling a moment later. Landa's face grew dark. He was _not_ one to be ignored.

 _Perhaps she speaks German?_ He thought. He was giving this woman the benefit of the doubt. He cleared his throat loudly and began again in a new language.

"Fräulein, es ist möglich, dass du mich das erste mal nicht verstanden hast. Wenn Sie sich lieber in unserer Muttersprache unterhalten würden, würde ich das gerne tun." _**Fräulein, it is possible you did not understand me the first time. If you would rather converse in our native tongue, I would happily oblige that.**_

At this, she finally looked up at him and met the intense focus of his gaze. Putting out her cigarette, she stared back at him rather blankly before surprising him somewhat by proceeding to speak in another language he was acquainted with.

"Immagino che tu non conosca l'italiano?"

 _ **I don't suppose you know Italian as well?**_

She smirked at Hans playfully, licking the tip of her index finger and using it to flip to the next page of her book. He would think she only spoke Italian and unable to respond, he would apologize to her and leave her be; or so she thought.

"Ah, bellissima signora. Che giochi divertenti. Ma ti assicuro che potrei essere l'ultima persona su questa terra con cui vorresti giocare." _**Ah, beautiful lady. What fun games you play. But I assure you, I may be the last person on this earth you would want to play with.**_

Yes, so it was a bit of a threat.

He gave her a challenging look, eyebrows raised.

 _I got you, pretty little bird…_ But to his surprise and her own, she didn't seem at all threatened. She was intrigued. He was so articulate in every language he knew and he spoke them all so beautifully. Being multilinguistic herself she always wished to find someone who could converse with her in every language she had been raised to know. Her eyes moved over his uniform; black, leather, cold looking, just like the man that stood in front of her. He was dashingly handsome and at least 20 years her senior. His silvery dark blond locks were combed and styled immaculately, his eyes a piercing greyish blue. She had heard stories about the infamous S.S Landa. About his reputation, his charms and many conquests. She knew he was German and could speak French, but she didn't know he was so well versed in Italian. She also knew he was good looking and overtly charming, but she never imagined the towering German would be so...erotic.

A wave of heat flooded her body and she noticed she was holding her breath from arousal. She did her best to feign steady and relaxed breathing. Thankfully, Landa didn't seem to notice this.

"Is there any language you don't speak, Colonel?"

She teased him lightly, this time in English. A slight accent trailed behind her words, one indicating her first language was most definitely French.

"I see you're familiar with my title. And that you understood me from the start. Clever girl. I seem to have lost my manners. I have yet to give you a proper introduction, Mademoiselle."

He reached for his black S.S. cap and removed it from his head. As if on command, she lifted a manicured hand for him to take and he did, swiftly placing a deep gentlemanly kiss. He had to restrain himself from licking his lips when he pulled away. She crossed her legs and pressed her thighs together tightly.

"Colonel Hans Landa of the S.S, but I assume you knew that already when you addressed me earlier."

"I'd be surprised if one didn't know you, Colonel. Or at the very least, had heard about your assignment here in Paris."

Her attitude towards Landa surprised him. She was extremely playful. The Colonel was used to his presence invoking terror among the people of France. They called him 'The Jew Hunter' after all. He was put in charge by the Fuhrer to round up all the Jews left in France who were either hiding or passing for Gentile. It wouldn't be unusual for French civilians to treat him with animosity but this lovely creature was not scared of him. That fact excited and disappointed him all at the same time.

"Would you care to sit?" She gestured to the empty seat opposite of her with her eyes. Hans removed his long black S.S. coat and placed it on the back of the chair, taking a seat across the beauty.

"Your name?" Although phrased as a question, it was a demand.

"Annabel. Annabel Vogel."

"Belle indeed. You are French?"

Annabel closed her book.

"Born and raised here. My father was German, my mother Italian, hence the number of languages I speak."

"What were their names?"

"Klaus and Isabella Vogel."

Hans held back a chuckle at the irony of the surname. Vogel. She was a bird after all. A white dove. _Annabel Vogel._

"What did they do?" He asked casually.

Annabel lifted her cup to her lips and took a quick sip. "My father owned a cafe, my mother was a school teacher."

"They are no longer with us?"

She shook her head sadly.

"My parents both passed from fever two years ago."

"A shame."

"I always found it quite beautiful. They died together and that brings me peace. Knowing they don't have to be apart. They were very in love."

Hans listened intently. He was going to be checking up on these facts later and needed to be sure he had all the details. It was a reasonable precaution for a man in his position to take. She was still a stranger, albeit a stunning one, and he was still a detective. A damn good detective. His eyes surveyed the cover of the book Annabel was reading, _Les Fleurs du Mal_ ; The Flowers of Evil.

"Interesting title for a novel."

"It's poetry. Charles Baudelaire. Are you familiar with his work?"

Hans shook his head. A waiter appeared and swiftly took Landa's order for an espresso with sugar on the side then he disappeared once he refilled Annabel's coffee cup.

"No Annabel, I am not familiar with Monsieur Baudelaire's work."

"Please, call me Anna."

"Anna, then." He said, his own tone sounded unfamiliar to him, oddly cozy.

Anna reached for the book and opened it, flipping forward a few pages before selecting a place. Then she handed it to Hans and allowed him to read an excerpt of one of the many poems. It's titled "Les Bijoux" or "The Jewels" in English. The copy is written in French with English translations below. He began reading,

 _My darling was naked, and knowing my heart well,_

 _She was wearing only her sonorous jewels,_

 _Whose opulent display made her look triumphant,_

 _Like Moorish concubines on their fortunate days._

 _She was lying down and letting herself be loved,_

 _And from the top of the couch she smiled with pleasure,_

 _At my love, deep and sweet as the sea_

 _Which towards her rose as towards her cliff._

 _Eyes fixed on me like a tamed tigress,_

 _With a vague and dreamy air she tried poses,_

 _And candor combined with lubricity,_

 _Gave a new charm to her metamorphoses;_

 _And her arm and her leg, and her thigh and her loins,_

 _Shiny as oil, sinuous as a swan,_

 _Passed in front of my eyes, clear-sighted and serene;_

 _And her belly, her breasts, grapes of my vine,_

 _To trouble the quiet that had possessed my soul,_

 _Where calm and alone she had taken her seat._

 _-And when at last the lamp allowed itself to die,_

 _Since the fire alone lighted the room,_

 _Each time that it uttered a flaming sigh,_

 _It steeped her flesh in pools of blood._

Hans shifted in his seat to relieve the pressure of his erection pressing against his zipper and cleared his throat. He shut the book of poetry, placing it in front of Anna. He had pictured Anna as the woman in the poem and himself the writer as he read. He imagined this stranger he had just met on top of him wearing nothing but lavish jewels that matched the turquoise in her eyes. He looked up and met her gaze, the silent message in her eyes said everything. This white dove was far from virginal. He could tell she wanted everything that was described in the erotic poetry to be done to her. She wanted it to be done by him.

As if on cue, the waiter appeared with Colonel Landa's espresso and a refill for Mademoiselle Vogel. Hans lifted the espresso to his lips, watching her as he drank. Anna cleared her throat as if to shake off the unbidden zing of attraction in the air between them.

"Most people think Baudelaire wrote about decadence, but mostly he wrote about trust. Trusting another human being with the vulgar or indecent thoughts inside your head, there's no leap in the dark more terrifying." She licked her lips and followed his lead, eyeing him as she sipped her own coffee.

It was unlike Hans Landa to be puzzled by a stranger. This young woman was exceptionally intelligent, sophisticated and alluring. It was as if Anna had no idea who Hans was or what he did here in France. But she did know, and that's what threw him off. The Colonel had charmed many women and bedded quite a few in his day. These women always appeared overly confident and composed, but Landa could always tell they were terrified of him.

Why wasn't Anna afraid of him? He wanted her to fear him. He wanted to watch her squirm in her seat from the intimidation. He wanted to dominate her. Her very humanity made her fascinating and drew him to her. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to discover more of the enigma that was Annabel Vogel. There was no denying the immediate physical attraction between them. It was carnal, sudden and unnerving for them both.

Remaining silent but breaking their extended eye contact, Anna gathered her clutch and shall from the back of her chair and rose to her feet. She was slightly taller than he thought but was still at least five inches shorter than Hans. He followed her and stood up from the table.

"Herr Landa, thank you for the lovely company, but I must be on my way. I have a friend coming from out of town and it would be terribly rude of me to not be there to greet them immediately upon their arrival."

She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek, lingering for a moment.

"Au Revoir." She took a step towards the door but Hans grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Why didn't you answer me when I initially spoke to you?" He asked finally, his voice low.

She smiled. "I like playing hard to get. Besides, I knew you'd be relentless until you received an answer. Most men give up after the first try. I see you aren't like most men, Colonel Landa. I enjoyed introducing you to Baudelaire, perhaps we can discuss his work again sometime? "

His grip on her arm loosened.

"When am I to see you again, Mademoiselle Vogel?"

"You'll know how to find me, Detective." And with that, she swiftly vanished out of the cafe.

As Hans looked about the area where they were just seated, he noticed the book of poetry on the tabletop. Grabbing it, he lifted his S.S. jacket off the chair and placed the book inside one of the coat's pockets.

 _You'll know how to find me, Detective._

He smirked. Smart little bird.

His smile quickly disappeared once Hans realized he was very late for a lunch meeting with Goebbels.

 _Fuck._


	2. Tableaux parisiens

It seems to me at times my blood flows out in waves  
Like a fountain that gushes in rhythmical sobs.  
I hear it clearly, escaping with long murmurs,  
But I feel my body in vain to find the wound.  
Across the city, as in a tournament field,  
It courses, making islands of the paving stones,  
Satisfying the thirst of every creature  
And turning the color of all nature to red.  
I have often asked insidious wines  
To lull to sleep for a day my wasting terror;  
Wine makes the eye sharper, the ear more sensitive!  
I have sought in love a forgetful sleep;  
But love is to me only a bed of needles  
Made to slake the thirst of those cruel prostitutes!

La Fontaine du Sang/Charles Baudelaire

Anna ducked into Le Parisien Cafe just off of Rue Lamarck as the rain began to pour down in torrents outside. She removed her shawl from her shoulders and paused, a pleasant smell greeting her nostrils. The cafe smelled sweet and unusually fragrant, but it wasn't coming from the pastries or the fresh coffee. The room was filled with hundreds of flowers. Dozens of large bouquets filled glass vases and were placed on each table in the moderately busy cafe. The bar was no exception, with every available surface occupied by a breathtaking arrangement of white roses. She closed her mouth and swallowed hard after realizing her jaw had dropped open. She knew exactly who had sent them, and that didn't stop her smile.

"Mademoiselle Vogel, it seems you have a secret admirer." Stephan, the cafes bartender, teased his boss as he polished a glass behind the bar. Stephan had worked for the Vogel's at Le Parisien for many years. He, like many, admired Anna from afar so it didn't come as a shock to him when twenty bouquets arrived that morning from an anonymous sender.

Before she could conjure up a playful response, her eyes landed on a red card perched underneath one of the bouquets on the bar. She took the card and opened it, admiring the neat penmanship before she began to read;

 _Bellissima Anna,_

 _I believe it would be safe to say that you have enchanted me._

 _I have also learned that the cafe where we first met, in fact, belongs to you._

 _I'm sure you won't mind the new floral arrangement I had sent over, I thought Le Parisien could use some ornamentation as beautiful as the owner._

 _Fino a quando ci incontreremo di nuovo, uccello bianco_

 _H_

Anna buried her nose in the bouquet and inhaled, a pleasant warmth settling in her. She knew he had done his research. He was a detective after all. She had nothing to hide. She was simply a young woman living in Paris where she had been her entire life, taking over her late father's business.

Klaus Vogel was indeed German blood, born and raised in Weimar, Germany. He had studied art in France where he met his late wife, Isabella Marino, an Italian born French woman. Together they had Annabel Maria Vogel and together they had passed two years earlier due to complications from Influenza. The story was just how Anna described it, no details kept and no truth twisted. Landa had hoped to find something on the young woman, something to prove that she was too good to be true. What made Hans Landa so intimidating was his ability to convince you he was privy to your secrets, but Mademoiselle Vogel had none. She was just a soul; an enchanting, enigmatic soul.

And for the first time in his life, Hans Landa wanted to know a woman's soul.

He wanted her trust. He wanted all of her. 

Anna knew he had entered the cafe before she even turned around. There was something about him that called to her on a molecular level and she knew she would be able to feel him in any room he walked into. She continued admiring the flowers, ignoring the heat that rose on the back of her neck as he approached her.

"Anna." He spoke, his voice low and her name rolled off his lips in an easy drawl. She turned to face him, and those grey eyes watched her. His hair was immaculately styled despite being wet from the rain.

"Colonel, what a surprise. Thank you for the flowers. They really are beautiful." They stood staring at each other for several moments until Hans cleared his throat and spoke again.

"It was my pleasure, Fraulein. The reason behind my presence in your lovely little cafe today is to request your accompaniment to dinner with me this evening."

"Dinner?" She replied.

"With myself, yes."

She chuckled, biting her bottom lip.

"Excuse my hesitance Colonel Landa, I'm just surprised you asked. We barely know one another."

"I would assume that is a way to get to know someone, Fraulein Vogel. Am I wrong?"

She paused, a smile playing at her lips. He was intimidating and yet still so playful.

"No, Sir."

Landa's eyes darkened. He needed this woman in his bed immediately.

"Splendid." Hans purred, grinning like the cheshire cat. "A car will be here at seven for you."

He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the book of poetry Anna had left on the table a few days prior. She lifted a hand to stop him.

"Keep it. It's my gift to you. Baudelaire is your friend."

He eyed her keenly, then nodded.

"So he is, Fraulein."

As if on command, Landa's driver appeared in the doorway. His sleek black coat was soaked from the downpour. He seemed hesitant to interrupt but was met with the Colonel's hand, gesturing him to hold on. With the same hand he reached to clasp Anna's and bring it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it.

"Until tonight, Anna Vogel."

And with that, he was out the door as swiftly as he came in. Anna let out the breath she was holding in, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her body began to cool.

She knew she was supposed to hate him, despise him, feel revolted by his every touch, every look, every gentle kiss but it wasn't that simple. God, how helpful it would all be for it to be that simple. But Hans Landa was not a simple man. And Anna Vogel was anything but a simple woman.

The car retrieved her sharply at 7, the driver making no attempt at conversation with Mademoiselle Vogel. Anna played with the thought of it being a strict order given by Landa himself, which immediately brought colour to her cheeks. Her outfit of choice for dinner was a deep red evening dress, one she rarely wore unless it was for special occasions. It was a form-fitting chiffon with off shoulder sleeves, cinched at the waist with a velvet belt to accentuate the body shape. It reached just below her knees and flared out. She contemplated a red lip but decided against it.

The rainfall had seized when she stepped out of the car, the air still cool and misty. One of Landa's men was already in front awaiting Anna's arrival. He greeted her and escorted her up the steps of the building into a beautiful restaurant setting. She recognized the name of the establishment, Le Procope, a historic and prestigious restaurant in Paris. It was decorated beautifully with pompeian red walls, grand crystal chandeliers and fresh floral decor on every table. She also knew it wasn't a coincidence Hans chose to have dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris, and a frequent host of German militants.

She was led through the restaurant and past a set of large double doors into a smaller, quaint room just off the main dining area. Hans immediately rose from his seat when she entered.

"Mademoiselle Vogel. You made it."

"In one piece Colonel, thanks to your men."

"Ich bin auf der anderen Seite der Tür"

 _I'll be on the other side of the door_

The officers booming voice was loud behind Anna, causing her to jump slightly. Hans noticed this immediately and acknowledged it was the first time she was noticeably caught off guard in his presence.

"Scared?" Hans teased her, silently hoping that the answer was yes.

"Should I be?"

"Only those with something to hide are afraid of me Mademoiselle. You've made it very clear you are not one of those people. Please, after you."

He gestured to the booth and allowed Anna to take her seat before sitting down opposite of her.

"Champagne?"

Anna nodded. "Oui."

"You look absolutely exquisite this evening, the red is very becoming on you Anna."

"I'm glad you like it." She slanted him a look through her lashes.

He gave her a level stare. "You're a devious little thing, aren't you?"

"Thank you." She said with a smug expression and took a welcome sip of the champagne.

Hans watched intently as she lifted the glass to her lips, a few locks of her chestnut hair falling from behind her ear. She was so assured, so controlled, and this bothered him to no end. She was also a sensual, passionate young woman who was the complete embodiment of sin. He knew he did not have to fight so hard for this woman, yet this did not stop him from wanting to. He knew the moment she handed him that book of indecorous french smut that she was asking him for something she had never asked from a man. He dragged his gaze away from her mouth, his body still humming with the thought of bedding her.

"Busy day?" Her voice snapped him out of his trance. Hans cleared his throat.

"Just a visit into the countryside. State duties and such."

"I see. Do you enjoy what you do Herr Colonel?"

He watched her closely. The question wasn't out of opposition or accusation, just pure curiosity. Hans shrugged.

"The job I have been ordered to carry out here in France is not a matter of personal enjoyment, Fraulein, but of doing what is asked of me. I have no personal animus towards the people I hunt, I am just simply very accomplished at hunting them."

She nodded as if she understood perfectly.

"And your families cafe-" he spoke as he unraveled his dinner serviette, "It must have been difficult to take on a business after losing them both."

"It was difficult, yes. But knowing they are together elsewhere brings me peace. I hope to sell the cafe one day, retire to a cottage in the country. Perhaps write a novel."

"You write?" His eyebrows lifted curiously.

"In my spare time. Mostly literary critiques but some original work as well."

As Anna spoke, she watched Hans' face soften. She swallowed hard. She wasn't afraid of him, but she grew increasingly nervous of what he was doing to her internally. A familiar voice flooded the back of her mind, his thick bostonian accent reminding her why she was here with Landa in the first place.

 _Look me in the eyes Kid. You can do this, alright? All of us have faith in you...now go fuck that Nazi prick up, babygirl._

She disregarded the voice and took a long sip of her champagne.

Suddenly a waiter appeared with two dishes, placing a plate in front of of the Colonel and .

"The coq au vin here is sublime. I took the liberty of ordering for you. I would assume you eat meat?"

Anna nodded, her last thought throwing her off guard.

 _Breathe Anna, breathe._

They ate mostly in silence, a bit of small talk in between bites of tender chicken and sips of champagne. She was the first one to break the quiet.

"Why did you really ask me to dinner, Colonel?"

His eyes shot up to look at her, serious, turning her blood cold. He stared at her icily as he finished chewing his last bite, lifting the serviette to wipe the corner of his mouth. Had she said the wrong thing? Maybe she was wrong about this whole situation. Maybe he knew why she was really here.

Maybe he knew what game she was playing.

Maybe she had been completely wrong to think she'd seen something in his eyes that made her think he wanted her.

 _What happened to having nothing to hide, Anna?_

"You want to know why I returned to your cafe, Fraulein? Why I sent you those floral arrangements and asked you to accompany me to dinner tonight?"

She blinked at him. "Yes."

"I typically do not need women, Fraulein Vogel. I like women. I enjoy their company. I especially like to fuck them. But I can do without them. You although, in some strange way that I can't seem to articulate, have captivated me. I no longer _want_ to have you, I _need_ to have you. You're an enigma, Anna. With your deliciously naughty interest in french erotica, your seemingly innocent demeanor and your simple yet enchanting way of living, I believe you need what I am offering to you. I am not a man to force or demand submission, as this will likely earn your distrust, but I want it. I want your trust. And I like to get what I want."

Breathless, almost panting, she stared wildly back at him. She almost wished for an escape, but she couldn't escape herself. The job was not to fuck Hans Landa. The job was never to fuck him. But she did need to gain his trust, and this was the only way. The warmth in her middle was spreading, the heat flowing into her legs and arms and up to her neck.

 _Do what needs to be done, Anna._

"Take me home, Hans."


	3. Les Chat

" _Keep your eye on the target." Donny instructed quietly in her ear. The warmth of his body wrapped around her and his scent had raised a few hairs on the back of her neck. He had his hands over hers, which were tightly clenching a brown Louisville slugger. Anna, in batting stance, followed his body motions, slowly lifting the bat behind her head. Donny let go and drew back, stepping away to observe her positioning._

" _Now angel, when you're ready."_

 _Anna eyed the sun reddened apple perched on the fence in front of her, her shoulders turned and pointed towards the target, back leg bent, ready to drive: and then she set her body in motion, hips uncoiling and pushing forward, arms swinging as the power of her legs drove them, the weapon on a flat plane level with the target. The apple blew into pieces at contact with the bat, sending chunks of it ricocheting into different directions._

" _Teddy fuckin' Williams knocks it out of the park!" Donny hollered proudly, arms raised high in the air. Anna threw her head back laughing, lifting the bat into the air triumphantly._

" _You fuckin' angel." He grabbed the bat and tossed it aside, pulling her into him. In one swift movement he lifted her up and spun her around, both of them laughing, then he kissed her as if he were starving. Anna twined her arms around Donny's neck, their bodies pressed tightly together._

" _I'm getting better at that, aren't I?" She uttered breathlessly as their lips separated, taking in some much needed air. He grinned down at her and pecked her lips once more. "I'm almost better than you Donowitz."_

 _He let out a breathy laugh. "You'll be bashing Nazi skulls in no time baby girl."_

 _Smiling, Anna Vogel kissed him again. Staff Sergeant Donny Donowitz. The Bear Jew. Brazen, mouthy and sometimes a bit cocky, and she had fallen for him hard._

 _It didn't take long before the kisses escalated into more and they found themselves stripped down in Donny's tent. He could make love and fuck all at the same time, finding the perfect rhythm to push her over the edge. She was a rough little thing, frequently leaving scars on Donny's biceps from digging her nails into him. Anna's pulse pounded in her ears, her moans and whimpers urging him on as he worked. Their rhythms became faster and harder, each of them building up to that final moment when they came together. Donny kissed her tenderly, stroking her face as he rolled over to lie next to her._

 _There had been relationships for them both, short and long term respectively, but they knew it was each other they were destined to meet. Coincidence, chance, fate, destiny - call it what you will, but it was love. Unconditional, passionate, all-consuming, irrevocable love. The Jewish Basterd had found his match; a brash, courageous, and compelling French girl who knew how to work a gun or a bat - or man- to her advantage. To him, she was more than just a pretty face. To her, he was the only man who saw all of her. She was his lover and accomplice, and when this war was over he'd take her to Boston with him._

 _Anna "The Bird" Vogel worked as the unofficial 10th member of the Basterds, living in Paris and confidently masquing her identity as a spy. The Basterds were extremely careful to keep Anna's involvement a secret from the authorities, never allowing the one surviving german soldier to see her. Her cafe was the perfect place for her to meet unsuspecting Nazi soldiers, as it was a popular place for them to hold their meetings, and lure them into the pathway of the Basterds. Anna had the ability to convince any man that he was in control. That they had captivated her and that she ached for their companionship for a night. And with the soldiers being lonely men who longed for a woman's touch, it was as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. Simply put, she played men well. But there was one she couldn't play. One man who was quick and could smell bullshit better than anyone; the Bear Jew._

 _The Landa assignment was Donny's idea. Landa would spot Anna, think their meeting was purely coincidental, then she'd seduce him and 'take him out'. Being the most cunning, sharp and intelligent man of the S.S; Landa was almost impossible to deceive, especially by a woman. Lt. Raine was against the plan initially, claiming Vogel was "volunteerin' to be butchered like an animal by the Natzee" but after much insistence from Donowitz, he authorized the assignment._

 _Anna knew Landa would be at Le Parisien for a lunch meeting with Goebbels. She also knew he had never been to her cafe before, eliminating any chance of prior meetings or run ins. He had no idea who she was, but she knew him._

 _And she was going to be the one to lure him to his death._

 _They laid together in the tent, their bodies spent and their minds racing. Donny had noticed the look of worry etched on Anna's face as she sat up to light a cigarette. She drew a long pull of it, taking it in her left hand and sticking out her right to cup the side of Donny's face. She rubbed her thumb along his cheek, admiring his dark eyes and features._

" _Nervous?"_

 _She nodded._

" _Don't be. He's just another Nazi scum. If anyone can fool him, it'll be you angel."_

 _She smiled slightly, Donny's bostonian accent endearing as always. When he looked at her so intensely, with his hazel eyes and his wry smile, she was helpless. She finished her cigarette and settled back down next to him, pulling the covers over her exposed breasts._

" _I love you, Donny. I'm in love with you." She watched as his eyes caught up with her words. His expression morphing into disbelief. You could love someone and not be in love with them, but that wasn't the case for Anna. She loved Donny, and she was in love just as much._

" _Every damn time you say that...I fuckin' lose it. Fuck. I love you too doll. I've loved you the moment you opened that smart little mouth of yours-" she cut him off with her lips, pulling him close to her once again. She thought she'd heard the goodbye in his words and did her best to push that aside. She had a bad feeling about Landa. He was the most powerful german soldier she had yet to deal with, and for just a moment she doubted her skillset to convince him she was an innocent parisian woman looking for a good time. She would just have to convince herself she felt something for him, even if he was a despicable human being hunting people. People just like her lover._

"On your knees, Mademoiselle Vogel."

Anna found herself in her apartment, standing naked in front of S.S Colonel Hans Landa. He remained fully clothed, his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned her shapely figure. The trip from the restaurant to her residence was a blur, Landa avoiding physical contact with her the entirety of the car ride. She craved his touch and she despised herself for it. She needed his trust for this assignment to work, and this was the way to receive it. She never actually slept with the soldiers she seduced, the Basterds usually appearing at just the right moment to take care of them for Anna. She knew Hans needed more than just a dinner date to let his guard down. He needed to see her, all of her, completely open to him. He needed to know he could trust her. She wanted him to trust her.

She wanted him, and she didn't fucking know why.

Begrudgingly, she did what she was told and lowered herself to her knees. He circled around her and sat on the ottoman behind her, capturing her neatly braided hair in his hand, he admired his handiwork. Hans had tied her hair into a braid earlier when he had her strip down from her dress, making sure it was out of the way of her beautiful face. He gave the braid a sharp tug, Anna's head leaning back to follow. She let out a gasp.

"Spreize deine Knie, Anna."

 _ **Spread your knees, Anna.**_


	4. Le Léthé

"On your knees, Mademoiselle Vogel."

Anna found herself in her apartment, standing naked in front of S.S Colonel Hans Landa. He remained fully clothed, his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned her shapely figure. The trip from the restaurant to her residence was a blur, Landa avoided physical contact with her the entirety of the car ride. She craved his touch and she despised herself for it. She needed his trust for this assignment to work, and this was the way to receive it. She never actually slept with the soldiers she seduced, the Basterds usually appearing at just the right moment to take care of them for Anna. She knew Hans needed more than just a dinner date to let his guard down. He needed to see her, all of her, completely open to him. He needed to know he could trust her. She wanted him to trust her. She wanted him, and she didn't fucking know why.

Begrudgingly, she did what she was told and lowered herself to her knees. He circled around her and sat on the ottoman behind her, capturing her neatly braided hair in his hand, he admired his handiwork. He had tied her hair into a braid earlier when he had her strip down from her dress, making sure it was out of the way of her beautiful face. Hans gave the braid a sharp tug, Anna's head leaning back to follow. She let out a gasp.

"Spreize deine Knie, Anna."

 _ **Spread your knees, Anna.**_

She felt her cheeks begin to burn, but she obeyed him, inching her knees further apart. The cool air felt like a shock to the heat between her thighs, and the pressure began to deepen below. As her eyes closed, he reached around her body with his free hand and cupped her breast, his thumb grazing her taut nipple. He teased circles over it, then took it between his fingers and gave a hard pinch.

"Scheiße!"

 _ **Fuck!**_

She cried out, her eyes tightening in agony of his slow torture. She panted hard as he let go of her breast, her entire body trembling. She realized her wetness had made its way down her inner thigh and she stifled a moan. He repeated the same motion on the other breast, then cupped each in his hands, using the pad of his thumb to brush over both swollen tight nipples. His breath was on her neck, lips grazing the tip of her earlobe.

"Vertraust du mir?" Landa whispered beside her ear.

 _ **Do you trust me**_ **?**

It was a loaded question, and Anna spun a dozen answers around her head before she replied, "Ja, ich vertraue dir bis zu einem gewissen Grad"

 _ **Yes, I trust you to a degree.**_

She couldn't see his face but she knew he was satisfied with her answer. She licked her lips, realizing he had yet to kiss her since they had met. Sliding his lips over her jaw, he moved lower back down to her neck, sucking and nipping gently at the tender skin. Her breath came out on a little purr of agreement as the tip of his tongue teased the curves of her neck.

"Fuck me."

"Patience is a virtue, Taube. Watch that unladylike mouth of yours." With a fist on her braid, he tugged her upwards to her feet. He led her over to the bed, instructing her to lie face down with her bottom up in the air and knees slightly apart. She was fully exposed, the most intimate parts of her displayed for him as if she were a piece of artwork in the Louvre. Landa lifted his hand and slid his fingers along the naked folds of her sex, admiring the beauty of her body.

"Look how pretty you are, Fraulein Vogel. Plump and pink. So very lovely and wet. What do you think, Anna? Should I use one digit on you or both?"

She took a breath. "Both. Please."

"Greedy girl." Then he slid two fingers inside her. Anna moaned as he worked, pumping them in and out. With a torque of her hips, she met his next thrust, but as soon as she did, Hans withdrew his fingers. His palm came down on her ass with a loud smack and she yelped.

"Do. not. Move. Is that understood?"

Anna tried to remain still as her ass stung from the slap, her hands clenching the sheets in fists.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good."

He flicked her clit and she fought a squirm. She bit her lower lip and willed herself to remain motionless. He continued where he left off, using his other hand to massage her outside as he worked on her inside. Anna, building quickly, let out a long moan.

"Thank me properly, Anna."

"Thank you, Colonel." The words were torn from her. She couldn't take an even breath. She was a quivering mass of desire.

She hadn't heard him undo his zipper, releasing the painful erection that had pushed on the front of his trousers since they left the restaurant earlier that evening. Suddenly, she was full. She cried out, not expecting him inside of her so soon. When adjusted to him, Anna moaned and demanded him to speed up his rhythm.

Hans had never been so aroused by a woman before. He was known for his conquests and grew more and more drunk with power after each woman he seduced. There had been so many, their names and faces had blurred. There were always willing partners, cloistered daughters and young brides married to old men who couldn't please them. They'd been so ripe, so full of untapped passions; each one had increased his sexual power and added to his abilities. In bed, he loved a good submissive woman, but outside he longed for someone to match his fire. Perhaps it was because of his title and the fear it instilled in many, but it became clear that most of these women were pretenders. They pretended to be these carnal sexual beasts for his attention and sexual satisfaction, but this only bothered him more in the long run. They were all bold and willing - but only because they wanted Hans to believe they were. Those same women were secretly terrified of him and it left absolutely no challenges for him. Someone in fear will do anything for you, and where was the fun in that? He wanted disobedience. He wanted to feel curious about a woman. He wanted someone who would submit to him and be the complete opposite of every other docile woman who craved his attention. He'd enjoyed their company, given pleasure and taken it in return, but in the end, they weren't willing to give him the one thing he wanted most: themselves. Wholly and completely. Into his keeping and care.

As his body began to tighten, the telltale sign of his oncoming orgasm, Anna moved her hips back and met his thrusts.

"You are insatiable, Anna." Hans would have laughed if he wasn't so close to cumming. She was a greedy thing, wanting to assert her dominance even though he had her fully naked and bent over for his pleasure.

Her orgasm greeted her suddenly, searing through her as Hans continued to his own ending. She did not hold back on vocalizing, letting Hans know she was riding through a sharp and fierce climax. He joined her, burying himself deep inside her one last time as his body stiffened from his own release.

Gently, he withdrew from her body and eased himself back into his trousers. She had already turned to face him, sitting back on her heels as their eyes met for the first time since he had commanded her onto her knees. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, her body still humming from her orgasm. She smiled.

He returned her smile, but his expression was serious. It sent a delighted shiver over her skin and made her heart twinge. Then the truth hit her with sudden wrenching force.

This wasn't real.

It was an elaborate charade.

And one wrong move would have her instantly dead.

She reminded herself of why she was doing this. Why she needed Hans Landa to trust her, care for her, love her. It wasn't for her own personal gain. She had already betrayed Donny and the Basterds by going off protocol. _Never sleep with the enemy._ But unlike the boys, she knew her target would never let his guard down if she kept her distance. She needed to be in his in reach, in his arms, at his feet to successfully give her an opening. She needed to convince the people around him she could be trusted, that she was not a suspect. She would do whatever it took.

She reached up and framed his face in her hands, lowering his head to hers. Their lips met for the first time. It was she who controlled the kiss, and he let her have her way. The kiss was long and sweet, not what she would have guessed. He pulled away first. He touched her cheek and let a finger trail down to her jaw, and then he ran it over her bottom lip. He admired her beauty for a moment before his eyes shifted towards the door of her apartment.

" _Je devrais y aller, Dove. Je t'enverrai une voiture demain après-midi. Vous déjeunerez avec moi."_

 _ **I should go, Dove. I'll send you a car tomorrow afternoon. You will have lunch with me.**_

Heat tinged her cheeks and she nodded. He kissed her once more, urgent yet soft. He watched as she pulled the bed sheets over her naked body, snuggling into her bed with a warm halo of sleep over her. As her head greeted her pillow, her eyes fluttered shut almost instantly.

"Sleep, taube."

Hans had claimed her, the beautiful Vogel. He was pleased by the trust she'd granted him thus far. She wasn't afraid, nor did she ever change herself to oblige him. And she pleased him. How she pleased him. There was no explanation for the surge of pleasure her presence brought him. He wasn't sure he wanted her to know the extent of his somewhat muddled feelings. Hell, he wasn't even going to try and sort through them. He would see her again tomorrow, and he would make seeing her a priority.

Anna stirred as a knock awoke her from her sleep. Still in a sleepy haze, she glanced around the room. It was empty, no Colonel in sight. She heard the knock once more on her door and wrapped a bedsheet around her body. Perhaps Landa had returned for another taste of her. The thought made her pulse below. She darted across the floor, pulling the front door open with her free hand. Her green eyes instantly met with the barrel of a gun. She froze, her eyes glancing behind it to meet her lieutenant, searing with anger.

"Before I blow yer freakin' traitor head off, you care to explain what in god's name you think yer doin' fucking the enemy?"


End file.
